Enter the Door
by Deltree
Summary: Something strange is happening in South Park. Kids are disappearing only to return with no emotions and a strange need to build a monument to the so-called Great Ones. When Kyle falls victim to this force, Stan will do anything to bring him back. Style.
1. And In Other News

Title: Enter the Door

Pairings: Stan/Kyle, some Craig/Tweek, Token/Bebe

Disclaimer: I don't own South Park or its characters.

Warnings: slash

Summary: Something strange is happening in South Park. Kids are disappearing only to return days later with no memory, no visible emotion or personality, and a strange need to build a monument for the coming of the so-called "Great Ones". When Kyle falls victim to this mysterious force, Stan will do anything to bring him back.

--

-

Chapter #1: And In Other News . . .

-

". . . But they say he's going to be alright. Back to you, Tom."

"Yes, thank you, Kenan," Tom Pusslicker, the news anchorman, shuffled the papers in front of him importantly and turned to face the camera. "And in other news a young girl has been kidnapped today. Anne Polk, a student at our very own South Park High School, was last seen two nights ago at the movies with her friends. Here with the story is a midget in a bikini."

"Yes, thank you Tom," the midget in the bikini said, standing before a plain two story house with a microphone in his hands. At his side were the two parents of the girl, a rather nondescript couple with brown hair and eyes. "I have with me Mr. and Mrs. Polk." The midget turned to the two parents to ask, "Tell me. How are you dealing with knowing that your daughter is out there somewhere being used by the murderous scum who have taken her?"

The mother burst into tears and Mr. Polk glared at the reporter. "We don't have to answer any of your questions and we won't if you won't show our daughter some—

"STAN!" Sharon Marsh screamed up the stairs at her son, "DINNER!"

Randy Marsh looked up at the sound of her scream, turning away from the TV and the sight of the midget being berated.

"I'M COMING!" Stan called back down and Sharon nodded before turning to her husband.

"Turn off that TV and come eat dinner."

"Coming," Randy replied, grabbing the remote to turn off the TV and getting to his feet.

--

Things hadn't changed much in South Park over the years. Things had settled down somewhat but the adults were still idiots and the town was still visited by some celebrity or other every couple of weeks. Kenny still died, but everyone had gotten so used to it that Stan and Kyle didn't even comment on it anymore.

The boys were now 17 yrs. old and for the most part they looked the same. Of course, they had gone through puberty and their bodies had lengthened out, chests and shoulders broadening and faces taking on a more masculine edge, but Cartman was, if anything, even fatter. Once he had come out of the closet, Kyle had decided that if he was going to be gay he might as well take the opportunity to tame his Jew-fro and had done so. This didn't mean he had ditched his hat though. It just meant that for those few months when it wasn't snowing he didn't have to hide his head. Cartman, Stan and Kenny had also kept sweaters and hats similar to their old ones, but in different colors. Kenny's hoodie was now grey and he pulled this hood down as he walked into the school building and made his way first to his locker and then to Stan's locker where he waited with Stan for Kyle to appear.

"Did you hear?" Kyle asked, finally coming up to them, backpack on his back and binder held tightly in his hands.

"Hear what?" Stan asked, frowning as he tried to shove his Physics textbook into his backpack with no success. Maybe if he tried it at a different angle.

"Anne Polk was kidnapped," Kyle said.

Forgetting his textbook, Stan looked up at Kyle with another frown. That name sounded familiar. "Didn't we used go to elementary school with her?"

"Yeah," Kenny said, smiling in remembrance. "I remember her. She was fun."

At this, Stan turned to Kenny. Knowing he would regret it, he just had to ask. "Fun?" he repeated, eyeing Kenny uncertainly.

"Yeah," Kenny said, smile turning perverted, "I remember this one time we—

"No!" Kyle interrupted loudly before he could really get started, "No, no, no, and more no. I don't want to know. You will not tell me. You are _not_ ruining anything else for me, okay?"

Kenny blinked and turned back to Kyle curiously. "What have I ruined for you?" As if he didn't already know.

"Let's see," Kyle began sarcastically and started ticking off points on his fingers, "How about Die Hard movies, spaghetti, popsicles, my favorite sweater, corn, Oreos—

"Wait. Wait," Stan broke in, waving a hand and looking confused, "How has he ruined corn?" He knew how Kenny had ruined all those other things. Kenny could just be a little too descriptive in his stories sometimes.

"Oh yeah," Kyle said, putting down the hand he was counting off points on and turning to Stan, "You weren't there. Kenny showed me this anime porn last year. It was disgusting. Some guy got fucked up the ass with corn."

Stan made a face, half-disgusted and half-pained. "Ow. Wouldn't that hurt?"

"Hey, I thought you would like it," Kenny said, trying to defend himself but not doing that good of job of it with that amused smile on his face.

"How," Kyle asked, turning on Kenny, "could you possibly think I would like something like that?"

"Well it was gay porn," Kenny said with a shrug, "I thought you were into that kind of thing."

"Not when it has to do with corn! I used to _like_ corn! Now I can't get that image out of my head every time I see it! I had to go home and watch my family eat something that I'd just seen shoved up another guy's ass! Do you know how disturbing that is?"

Knowing Kyle was being serious but amused despite himself, Kenny tried to hold in his laughter, clapping a hand over his mouth and turning red in the face, shoulders shaking, but it was no use and his snickers could easily be heard.

"Uh," Kyle said, making a frustrated noise and turning away from the laughing boy. "_Anyway_," he began, trying to get back on topic. "Yeah. Anne Polk. She was kidnapped."

"Do they have any clue who did it?" Stan asked, going back to shoving his textbook into the small space available in his backpack. Finally finding an angle that his Physics book would go in, he zipped his backpack shut.

Kyle shook his head. "No idea. But then this is South Park. You can't exactly expect the police to be competent."

Stan nodded, conceding the point. "True."

"Aye! You guys! You guys!" Cartman called from down the hall, trying to waddle up to them quickly.

Looking up and seeing this before the others, Stan snorted a laugh and pointed. "Look. Cartman's trying to run."

Looking at where he was pointing, Kenny snickered.

"Quick," Kyle said, "Let's leave before he gets over here."

"Might as well take our time," Stan said, laughter in his voice, "He's not getting over here any time soon."

"You guys!" Cartman called again, now closer. "You'll never believe this!"

"Maybe we should hear what he has to say," Kenny said. "It could be interesting."

Kyle rolled his eyes and switched the binder he was holding from under one arm to the other. "It's probably just another stupid plan to piss me off."

"Yeah," Kenny said, clearly amused. "I know. That's what I meant. Interesting."

"Oh yeah. Thanks Kenny."

Kenny pretended Kyle had been being serious and smiled. "Your welcome."

"You guys!" Cartman said, finally reaching them. Bending over with his hands on his knees, he began panting for breath, that short run having taken a lot out of him.

"What is it now, fatass?" Kyle asked irritably.

"Aye!" Cartman said then panted for breath again. "I'm not . . ." deep breath in and out, "I'm not fat!" Another deep breath. "I'm big . . ." breathe, "boned," Cartman finished as he panted, still bent over.

"You're fat, Cartman," Kyle said, "Deal with it."

"Aye!" Cartman protested. But that was all he could do. He was still too tired out from that short run.

"Damn, Cartman," Stan said as he watched Cartman struggle to breathe. "This is even worse than last year at P.E. Have you gotten fatter? I didn't think that was possible."

"Stupid . . ." Deep breath in, "Hippie."

"What is it you wanted?" Kyle asked, clearly annoyed. "Because we're not gonna stand here and watch you struggle to breath past your fat all day."

"I dunno," Kenny said, watching Cartman closely. "It's kind of mesmerizing. The fat jiggles as he breathes."

Stan tilted his head as he noticed what Kenny was talking about. "Oh yeah . . . Huh."

"I . . ." Carman taking in another deep breath, "hate you, Kenny. You poor," another deep breath, "piece of shit." But he was clearly regaining his breath and soon he was back to normal again. Standing up straighter, he finally got out what he wanted to say. "You'll never believe it."

"What?" Stan asked, snapping out of the daze Cartman's rolling fat had put him in and looking only somewhat curious.

"My mom's gonna be out of town this weekend and she says I can throw a party if I want. It's gonna be so killer. Everyone's invited."

"Woohoo!" Kenny cheered, putting his arms in the air. He loved parties.

"What day is it?" Kyle asked curiously.

"Saturday," Cartman said, but then looked at Kyle with some evil intent, "but who said you were invited, Jew?"

Kyle looked confused, "But you just said . . ."

"I said everyone's invited, as in every person," Cartman explained, "Jews aren't people. Especially faggy Jews."

At this, Kyle scowled and looked angry. "Well fine then. Like I'd wanna go to your stupid party anyway."

"'Ey!" Cartman protested, looking angry at the insult to his party. "My party isn't stupid. It's gonna be better than any party _you've_ ever thrown, you fucking gaywad."

"I've never _thrown_ a party, dumbass."

Cartman nodded and crossed his arms over his flabby chest, looking very self-important. "I rest my case."

Kyle rolled his eyes again and shook his head, not wanting to have to deal with the fatass anymore. "Fine. Whatever. You guys have fun at your stupid party. I need to get to class." And he set off down the hallway.

"Hey, wait up, dude," Stan called, hurrying to put on his backpack and catch up with Kyle. He and Kyle had the same homeroom and they always walked there together. "You know," he said as Kyle waited for him to catch up and the two of them left Cartman and Kenny behind, "My parents aren't gonna be home on Saturday either. It's their anniversary or something. You want to just come over to my house? We can raid my dad's beer stash."

Kyle glanced at him. "You don't want to go to Cartman's party?"

"No way, dude. I bet it's gonna be super lame," Stan said, shaking his head. But then he smiled at Kyle. "Hanging out with you will probably be ten times cooler."

Kyle smiled slowly in return. "Sure. That sounds like fun."

--

"And some good news for the families," Tom Pusslicker said, looking straight into the camera. "Anne Polk, the girl who went missing the other day, has been returned. We now go live with this story to Kenan O'Malley. " In the corner of the screen there appeared a small box showing a blond reporter in front of the same plain two-story house as yesterday's broadcast. "Kenan? How are things?"

"Things are good, Tom," the reporter replied as the box grew larger to fill the entire screen so that Tom was no longer shown. "I have with me Mr. and Mrs. Polk who are here again to share with us the good news. Tell me," he said, turning to shove the microphone he held into the two parents' faces. "How are things now that your daughter is back home where she belongs?"

"Things are . . ." the father obviously hesitated to continue before he finally finished with a rather forced looking smile, "Things are great."

Hearing this, Mrs. Polk let out a wail, burying her face in her hands and starting to cry. Mr. Polk immediately turned to try and comfort her.

"What's wrong with her?" Kenan asked, looking at the woman with some confusion.

"Nothing! Nothing!" Mr. Polk tried to say, his smile still very obviously forced. "She's just . . . so happy, you know? Our little girl's back home and she's . . ." he trailed off uncertainly, obviously not sure quite what to say.

"She's gone!" Mrs. Polk wailed, filling in the silence. "Our little girl's gone!"

"No!" the father said, obviously determined to be positive. "She's just . . . different, that's all. Yeah. Different."

"And just how is she . . . different?" Kenan asked, looking curious.

"There's nothing there!" the mother wailed. "She's gone! She's just . . ." hiccupping, she tried to get out what she wanted to say past her sobs, "She's just a . . . a husk now."

"A husk?" Kenan repeated, obviously intrigued as he shoved the microphone in the mother's face. "What do you mean by a husk?"

"I mean," Mrs. Polk said, obviously trying to calm her tears. "I mean, she's there, but she's not there. She has no emotion. No personality. She's gone!" And Mrs. Polk dissolved into tears once again.

"Those poor people," Randy Marsh said, shaking his head at what he was seeing. "The people who took that girl must have really messed her up."

"Yes," Sharon Marsh agreed, seated next to her husband on the couch as they watched this. "Those poor people."

"And in other news," Tom Pusslicker said as the view changed back to him, leaving the Polks behind, "A cat got stuck in a tree today. The fire department was immediately called and they rushed out to save this poor creature before it could grow hungry. Old Mrs. Feeney had this to say . . ."

--

TBC


	2. Party Time

Title: Enter the Door

Pairings: Stan/Kyle, some Craig/Tweek, Token/Bebe

Disclaimer: I don't own South Park or its characters.

Warnings: slash

Summary: Something strange is happening in South Park. Kids are disappearing only to return days later with no memory, no visible emotion or personality, and a strange need to build a monument for the coming of the so-called "Great Ones". When Kyle falls victim to this mysterious force, Stan will do anything to bring him back.

--

-

Chapter #2: Party Time

-

The week passed and five other kids were taken and then returned. Every time the kid returned with seemingly no emotion or personality and whenever they were questioned about where they had been they would always just answer, "In the dark. In the dark. The Great Ones shall triumph, " or some variation of that.

In fact they seemed to be talking about these "Great Ones" a great deal. Nobody could tell whom the kids were talking about but it was assumed that the title "Great Ones" was what the kidnappers had been forcing the kidnapped to call them, maybe as a sort of power-rush thing. Either way, the town was on red alert, everyone out looking for the kidnappers, wanting to catch them before they could take and destroy the minds of any more children.

But just because the streets had now been deemed dangerous that didn't mean that the teens of South Park High were going to miss out on any fun and Cartman's party continued as planned. With a huge grin, Cartman walked among his guests, greeting each one and making sure they were aware of the many snacks and drinks available. He wanted this party to be remembered.

"Hey. How's it going? Good?" Cartman asked some random person he didn't know but who had still come to the party. The person ignored him to keep on dancing with a rather slutty looking girl and Cartman nodded. "Good. You have fun now. Drinks are in the kitchen. Hey Tweek!" Cartman called, noticing the rather nervous looking boy over in the corner, and walked over to him. "You having fun?"

"GAH!" Tweek twitched sporadically. "Y – yes?" he replied, as if he wasn't quite sure if he was or not.

"Good. Good," Cartman said, pleased. "Then you just keep doing whatever it is you're doing. I'll be over there if you need me," he said, indicating the other side of the room.

Tweek twitched again. "Y – yeah. " Twitch. "O – o – okay. Whatever you say."

"Hey Token!" Cartman called, seeing the other boy just walk in the door with Bebe. He walked over there and squeezed between the couple. "Token. Token, ole buddy," he said, clapping a hand on Token's back. "And Bebe," he said, turning to the girl and putting a hand on her back as well. "How are you two this fine evening?"

"Uh . . . We're fine . . ." Token said, eyeing Cartman strangely.

"Thank you for inviting us," Bebe said politely though she obviously just wanted Cartman to stop touching her.

"Your welcome!" Cartman said. "Drinks are in the kitchen. Snacks are right over there. And if you want we can always clear the floor for some break-dancing later."

Token looked irritated. "I keep telling you. I don't know how to break-dance. And even if I did I wouldn't _want _to break-dance."

"Nonsense," Cartman said. "You're black. Of course you break-dance. Now if you'll excuse me. I think I see Jimmy." And Cartman left to go welcome Jimmy to the party.

Token sighed. "I keep telling him . . ."

Bebe patted him on the arm soothingly. "I know. I know."

"Jimmy!" Cartman cried, walking up to the crippled boy. "How are you?"

"I'm f – f – fi –" Jimmy tried to spit out the sentence and Cartman waited patiently. "I'm f – fi – fi – fine," he finally got out.

"Good to hear!" Cartman said and clapped Jimmy roughly on the back, almost sending the crippled boy to the ground. "Now drinks are in the kitchen and snacks are right over there. Help yourself!" And Cartman left to go bother someone else. This party was turning out to be just as killer as he'd imagined.

--

"This'll be much better than Cartman's stupid party," Kyle said, walking through the door to Stan's room with the bag of rented movies in his hands. "We can watch movies and get drunk off our assess without him around to ruin our fun."

"Exactly," Stan agreed, walking through the door behind Kyle and immediately heading for the old TV set he had set up in his room. Getting down on his knees, he pressed a few buttons and got the DVD player all set and ready to go. And with that all set up, he crawled over to the Kyle, who was seated on the foot of his bed, and stood up on his knees again to grab the plastic bag of movies off the bed. "What do you want to watch first?" he asked as he went through the bag.

"Idiocracy?" Kyle suggested.

"Nah. I wanna get drunk first," Stan said, still going through the movies. "Let's watch Monty Python and the Holy Grail," he said as he finally found the DVD he was looking for and held it up, looking to Kyle for his approval.

"Alright. Sure," Kyle said with a shrug. "I have the drinking game rules, right here." And he pulled the folded up piece of paper out of his back pocket to hold it up.

"Cool," Stan said, taking the Monty Python movie out of its case and going over to stick it in the DVD player. With that done, he crawled back over to sit at Kyle's feet. "Let me see that," he said, twisting around to reach up and grab the piece of paper from his friend's hands, wanting to check the rules. "What do we do?" he asked, bringing down the paper to look it over.

"It's easy. One drink every time somebody says "Lord," or "Knight" or "Sir,"" Kyle replied, getting comfy on the edge of the bed and grabbing a beer from the pile of alcohol they had made on Stan's bed. They had everything they could want. Regular beer, Light beer, tequila, vodka, even some rum.

"It says here you have to drink every time you see, read, or hear the name of an animal," Stan said, pointing at the second line with a small frown.

"Yeah," Kyle said, nodding in agreement as he popped open his beer. It did say that.

"Dude," Stan said, looking up at his friend, "Do you know how many times they say 'llama' before the movie even starts?"

Kyle frowned uncertainly and looked down at Stan. "They can't say it that much."

"They say it, like, 50 times," Stan corrected him.

"Well look at it this way," Kyle said with a smile, "At least we'll get drunk fast."

Stan looked back down at the rules and thought about that, eventually deciding Kyle was right. "Alright. Whatever," he said, throwing aside the rules and grabbing his own beer from his bed. They were ready to begin. Grabbing the DVD remote, he pressed play and sat back to enjoy.

--

The party had continued and was starting to grow wild. Bebe and Token were grinding in the middle of the makeshift dance floor, surrounded by at least twenty other grinding couples jammed into the living room. Beer had arrived and everybody was well on their way to being drunk, Clyde most likely first in line as he had shown up nearly an hour ago and set up base next to the keg, clearly determined to be the drunkest person at the party. Craig and Tweek were the worst though, at least in Cartman's eyes. Cartman wasn't sure if they were drunk or not, but they had taken over the couch and were making out feverishly, hands going everywhere, not caring that anybody could see.

"'Ey!" Cartman shouted at them. "Fags! Not on my couch! You'll get your sick fag-germs all over it!"

Craig flipped him off without even pausing in his make-out fest.

"Aye!" Cartman protested. Nobody flipped him off at his own party. He was about ready to go over there and pull the two fags off of each other when he heard Kenny's voice above the pounding bass of the stereo.

"Hey! Cartman!" Kenny shouted, "I'm going upstairs okay, man?!"

"What?" Cartman shouted back, looking around to try and find his friend. Finally he saw Kenny on the stairs, leading a drunken floozy up to the second floor by the hand. "Fuck!" Cartman said, waddling quickly over to the base of the stairs, pushing through grinding couples on the dance floor, to scream up to the second level of the house, "Bad Kenny! That's a bad, bad Kenny! Get back down here! Nobody's supposed to go up there!"

"We'll just be a while, okay?!" Kenny shouted back down and then the sound of a door slammed.

"Aye!" Cartman screamed and started climbing the stairs. Getting to the second floor and breathing heavily, he found that Kenny had gone into his mother's room. And Cartman knew what Kenny was planning to do in there. He began to pound on the door. "Kenny!" he screamed angrily.

"Dude!" Kenny called back, "Go away, man! I'm trying to score here!"

"Kenny!" Cartman screamed and continued to pound on the door. But Kenny didn't respond again and Cartman heard the sound of something crashing to the floor back down on the first floor. "Goddammit," he muttered to himself before leaving Kenny to enjoy himself. Getting back downstairs he saw that someone had knocked over the snacks table, leaving the floor covered in Cheesy Poofs, chips, and pretzels. "Goddammit!" he said again, this time with more feeling. "Who did that?!" he screamed at the crowd, but nobody was listening. A pretty girl he didn't know screamed randomly and began taking off her top to the appreciative cheers of the boys in the room.

"Hell yeah!" someone screamed in approval.

Over in the corner where things were quieter, Jimmy was talking to a girl with red hair that Cartman thought looked rather familiar. Next to them was that Anne Polk girl from the news, staring blankly into space.

"She just won't do anything!" the red head was saying tearfully, "It's like she's a robot! I thought going to this party would help her, but it's not working!"

--

More than halfway through the movie and Kyle was pretty drunk. Stan was well on his way too, but Kyle had definitely beaten him there.

"Stan! Stan!" Kyle shouted excitedly, long ago having gotten down from the bed to crawl closer to the TV. He jabbed a finger at the screen and the bunny pictured there delightedly. "It's the bunny! The bunny!"

"You're the bunny," Stan replied drunkenly and took a swing of his beer. That didn't really make much sense as an insult, but who the hell cared?

Kyle frowned at this reply. "No, you're the bunny," he said.

"No, I'm not," Stan said, offended, "You are!" he said, indicating Kyle with his beer hand and almost hitting himself in the face somehow.

"No I'm not!" Kyle protested indignantly, "I'm . . . Wait," Kyle stopped, looking confused. "What were we talkin' about again?"

"I . . ." Stan frowned and looked down into his drink as if the answer would be there. "I don't know."

"Well whatever it was, I'm not it," Kyle said and crawled back over to sit next to Stan, grabbing another beer on his way there from the pile Stan had amassed at his feet.

"Oh you so are," Stan replied, taking another swing from his drink only to realize that there was nothing left in it. Frowning, he peered into the bottle and then stuck out his tongue and shook the bottle, trying to get the very last few drops from it. When nothing came out he finally shrugged, threw the empty bottle in the pile to his left, and reached out to grab another beer from the pile of unopened beers in front of him.

"Am not," Kyle said, taking a swing from his new beer.

"Are too," Stan said, popping open his drink and trying to focus his bleary vision on the action on the TV screen. He giggled drunkenly as the bunny attacked and all of the knights went screaming.

Kyle sighed morosely. "I wish I had teeth like that."

"Like the bunny?" Stan asked, putting his hand to his mouth like he had fangs and turning to Kyle.

Kyle laughed at him. "Yeah. Can you imagine? If Cartman said any – anythin' _bad_ about Jewish or gay people I could jus' . . . I could jus' _bite_ him. Then we'll see how mean he is to me."

Stan shook his head. "Wouldn't work. This is _Cartman_. He has, like . . . like a built in cushion."

"No . . ." Kyle said, shaking his head, "No, it'll work. I'll jus' . . . I'll jus' do this." Kyle grabbed Stan to steady himself and leaned over drunkenly to chomp on Stan's shoulder through his t-shirt. Letting go, Kyle sat back and grinned, looking immensely pleased with himself. "Yeah, I'll jus' do that."

"Ow, dude," Stan whined belatedly, reaching up to rub the spot Kyle had bit. "That hurt."

"Baby," Kyle said, turning away to take another swing of his beer.

"No it really hurt," Stan said with a frown, "How'd you like it if I jus' went around an' bit you, huh?"

"I'd like to . . . see you try," Kyle said challengingly as he swayed drunkenly and took yet another swing of his drink.

Taking that as the challenge it was meant as, Stan reached out to grab Kyle and pull him closer only to have Kyle jerk out of the way at the last minute and Stan lose his balance, falling over on his face into the spot Kyle had just recently vacated.

"Hah!" Kyle said triumphantly, looking down at where Stan had fallen with a smirk.

Pulling his face out of the carpet, Stan glared at his friend and pushed himself up again. Then waited a moment to lull Kyle into a false sense of security before pouncing as Kyle raised his beer to his lips again to take a drink. The two boys fell to the floor and both of their drinks fell over to spill beer all over Stan's carpet as Kyle fought back and the two went rolling back and forth.

Both fighting to come out on top, they bumped into the bed then rolled over onto the pile of unopened beers, the bottles digging into their backs, and then rolled over those to end up at the base of the TV. Here they bumped hard into the crate that held the TV up, making the precariously placed TV shake and threaten to fall, but they didn't stop their fight and rolled away before the TV could fall over. Finally, tired, they ended up panting for breath with Stan on top of Kyle right back where they started.

"Hah!" Stan said breathlessly, pinning Kyle to the floor and reveling in his win.

"Alright . . . alright dude," Kyle said, equally breathlessly, "You win. Get off me."

"No," Stan said, smirking, "I win. I'm staying."

"Dude!" Kyle protested and wriggled on the floor, trying to throw Stan off, before finally collapsing back, too tired and drunk to keep moving. "Dude . . . gay . . ."

Stan laughed and said, "You're gay."

"Yeah . . ." Kyle said tiredly, giving up, "Yeah, I am."

The two boys just lay there for a while, panting for air. Stan, as the more athletic of the two, easily regained his breath and was left just lying there on his friend. He didn't really feel like moving actually. It was weird. He could feel Kyle's chest moving up and down below his own, could feel the body heat emanating from Kyle's body, and without even realizing it he found his hand moving up to trace the bones in Kyle's face. In his drunken state, the movement of his hand along Kyle's pale skin was almost mesmerizing and he watched as his fingers trailed along Kyle's cheekbones, down the bridge of his nose, and down to his mouth, where Stan's eyes fastened on pale pink lips.

"Dude . . . ?" Kyle asked hesitantly, eyeing Stan uncertainly, "What are you doing?"

Stan's eyes didn't move away from his mouth as Kyle spoke, watching as pale pink lips formed the words. "Nothing," he replied as he moved his hand away.

"Then what . . ." Kyle trailed off as his eyes caught Stan's and Stan began to lower his head.

--

The party had only gotten worse. The dancers hadn't cared that there was now food on the dance floor and had ground the Cheesy Poofs, chips, and pretzels into the carpet with their feet. Somebody had also since then broken one of the lights in the room making the room now dim, shadows dancing along the walls as they few remaining dancers moved across the light to the beat. Many of the couples had taken this opportunity to make-out with their partner and five or six couples decorated the walls while Bebe and Token along with another couple had taken over Craig and Tweek's spot on the couch, all making out enthusiastically to the sound of the continued loud beat of the music. Cartman didn't know where Craig and Tweek had gone, but he hoped they had gone home to contaminate their own homes with their gay-germs.

Kenny still hadn't come down and Cartman headed up the stairs in the hopes of dragging him out of his mom's bedroom and sending him home. Kenny and whoever he had dragged in there with him should have been done, but as he got to the second floor Cartman still heard the sound of someone enjoying themselves loudly. Coming closer he was disgusted to find that the sound of moans and gasps was coming from the bathroom and not his mom's room. Somebody else must be in there.

"Oh goddamit," he muttered to himself irritably and then knocked on the bathroom door. "'Ey!" he shouted at whoever was in there. "The bathroom's for shitting, not fucking!"

"Fuck off!" Craig's voice shouted back at him and the sound of moans and gasps continued.

Oh fuck. Craig and Tweek were in there. Now his bathroom was being contaminated. He'd never get the gayness out.

"'Ey!" he shouted again, knocking harder. "Get out of there, you fucking pussies!"

"I said fuck off!" Craig shouted again. "This room's taken! Find your own!"

"I don't want a fucking room, you fucking asshole! I want you out of the goddamn bathroom!"

"Hey!" Kenny shouted, opening the next door and peeking his head out. "Will you be quiet? Some people are trying to sleep here!"

"Kenny!" Cartman screamed at him, "Don't you dare go back in there! Get your fucking poor ass out here right now!"

Kenny merely flipped him off and closed the door again. Cartman tried to open it, but Kenny had locked it from the inside. "I fucking hate you, Kenny," he muttered to himself as he let the doorknob go. There was an answering moan from the bathroom, louder than before, and Cartman had to cover his ears and squeeze his eyes shut, completely grossed out as he ran back down the stairs. He needed a beer.

--

Stan and Kyle's eyes locked on each other, Stan continued to lower his head. Inch by inch, slowly, slowly, until Kyle got this weird look on his face and covered his mouth with a hand.

Frantic, Kyle began pushing Stan off of him. "Get off! Get off!" he muffled behind his hand.

"What the fuck, dude?" Stan asked, rearing back but not getting off of his friend.

"Dude! Get off!" Kyle said, pushing harder, until finally he used his whole body and heaved Stan off of him with one hard shove. Scrambling to his feet, he raced out of Stan's room. Out in the hallway, Stan could hear the sound of the bathroom door slamming shut.

Still a little out of it, Stan blinked and watched him go. Then the last few moments caught up with him and, suddenly thinking a lot clearer, he put a hand over his mouth in shock and stared with wide eyes at his door. Had he just . . . ? He almost . . . Oh fuck.

This was not good.

The sound of loud puking reaching his ears (the bathroom was right next door) Stan felt some concern replace his shock and he stood up and headed out the door. Now in the hallway, Stan knocked hesitantly on the bathroom door. "Dude. You alright?"

There was the sound of more retching until finally the sound quieted and a shaky voice called back, "Yeah. I'm alright. But I think I'm a little drunk."

Stan laughed nervously, the scene on his bedroom floor not forgotten. "Yeah. I think I am too, man."

There was the sound of running water, the faucet turning on, and some splashes, then the door to the bathroom opened and Kyle smiled at him, looking tired, a little sick, and still drunk. "You still want to watch the other movies?"

Stan smiled waveringly and ran a hand through his hair, looking down at the floor. "Nah. For some reason I'm not exactly in the movie mood anymore."

Leaning heavily against the doorframe, Kyle blinked tiredly. "Yeah. You wanna just go to sleep?"

Stan winced and quickly told his mind to shut up as it immediately translated that to 'Wanna go to sleep with me?' What was wrong with him? He must be a lot drunker than he thought he was. "Sure, man," he just said and turned to lead the way back to his bedroom. "You can have the bed."

"You sure?" Kyle asked, looking up at him as they walked back to Stan's room. "I mean, I can take the floor. No problem."

"Hey, I'm not the one who just puked up my guts," Stan said, trying to act normal and like he didn't want to run away in the completely opposite direction. "You take the bed."

Kyle smiled. "Thanks, dude."

Stan tried to return that smile and ended up just keeping his attention locked on the floor beneath him. "Yeah . . ." Pulling out some blankets as Kyle got settled in his bed, Stan made a makeshift bed on the floor.

"G'night," Kyle said before turning over on his side and closing his eyes.

Hand posed to turn off the light, Stan just stared at him for a long moment. Finally he sighed and shook his head, turning off the light and slipping between the blankets he had put on the floor. It took him a while to get to sleep that night.

--

At around 3 AM the party was finally dying down, almost all of the making out couples having gone home and the few remaining party-goers slowly trickling out the door. Kenny and that girl he had dragged into the bedroom with him had eventually come downstairs, but Craig and Tweek were taking their sweet ass time.

"Hey," Token said, coming up to him, "Thanks for inviting us, but we're just gonna leave now." By his side, Bebe nodded.

"Yeah, fine. Whatever," Cartman replied angrily, arms crossed over his chest in a pout. The party hadn't exactly gone as he'd imagined it. They had totally trashed the entire house. Not that he cared about the house being trashed, but nobody had respected his authority in doing it.

"Hey, man," Craig's voice called, "Nice party."

Cartman looked up from his pout to find Craig and Tweek walking out the door, Craig looking far too satisfied. Cartman scowled.

Yeah. That's great. Come to his house, eat his food, fuck in his bathroom, and leave. That's just wonderful.

--

TBC?


	3. Token

Title: Enter the Door

Pairings: Stan/Kyle, some Craig/Tweek, Token/Bebe

Disclaimer: I don't own South Park or its characters.

Warnings: slash

Summary: Something strange is happening in South Park. Kids are disappearing only to return days later with no memory, no visible emotion or personality, and a strange need to build a monument for the coming of the so-called "Great Ones". When Kyle falls victim to this mysterious force, Stan will do anything to bring him back.

AN: Okay, I wanted to say thank you to all the people that reviewed. Thank you! Reviews really help get me inspired, though I did take a bit of time to get this next part out. Sorry. Hope you like it though.

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Chapter #3: Token

-

Kyle had woken up without seeming to remember the almost events of the night before, something which Stan was definitely grateful for. Now there was no one but himself to remember how fucking stupid he had almost been.

Because what the fuck had he been thinking? Number one, he wasn't gay. Number two, this was _Kyle_. His best friend since kindergarten. You don't kiss your best friend. Especially if your best friend was a guy and you were a guy and you were both guys.

He must have been seriously drunk. And that was how he was playing it off. He had been drunk. It in no way meant that he secretly liked Kyle in any way other than a brotherly way. It had been a mistake. A spectacularly stupid mistake, but a mistake all the same.

Stan was afraid that he may have acted a little weird around Kyle that following day when the two of them had decided to just stay in Stan's room and nurse their hangovers, doing little else, but now it was Monday and Stan had better prepared himself. The incident had still been fresh in his mind yesterday. Now he'd had some time to sort it all out and he was ready.

"Yeah, I'm ready," Stan said determinedly to his open locker. Then he closed the locker door and found himself face to face with Kyle. "Oh," he said, eyes going wide as struggled not to freeze up. "Oh, dude." Pasting on a smile, he said weakly, "Hi."

At this, Kyle just looked concerned. "Are you okay?"

Stan kept the pasted smile on his face as he struggled to say cheerfully, "Yeah! Yeah, of course. Why?"

"Dude. You were talking to your locker," Kyle said as if that was all the proof he needed.

"No I wasn't," Stan denied even though he knew Kyle had heard him. "I was just . . ." he trailed off, brain unable to come up with an alternative to what he was doing quick enough.

"Talking to your locker," Kyle filled in for him, still looking concerned.

"No I . . ." Pasted smile disappearing, Stan tried again to come up with an alternative and was again left with nothing. "Well yeah," Stan finally said, unable to get out of admitting it.

"Uh-huh," Kyle just said before getting serious, "Look," he began, "If I did anything, you know, _weird," _emphasizing the word with a strangely intent expression on his face, "on Saturday that I don't remember. . . You'd tell me right?"

"Of course, man," Stan said, smiling again almost nervously. "But don't worry. You didn't do anything."

Kyle didn't look convinced. "Then why have you been acting weird ever since?"

"What?" Stan laughed uncomfortably. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Kyle frowned. "Dude—

"So what did you two losers do this weekend?" Cartman asked, breaking into their conversation. Stan never thought he would actually feel thankful to the fatass, but there you go. He was. "Did you take turns trading gay stories and braiding each other's hair? I see the Jew already took his out," Cartman said, indicating Kyle's hatless head where there were, of course, no braids.

Kyle's hands instinctively tried to go to his head, getting halfway there before Kyle got control of his limbs again and brought them back to his sides. He glared at Cartman. "Shut the hell up, fatass. We had tons more fun by ourselves then we ever could at your lame little party."

Cartman looked somewhat upset at this, but it apparently wasn't for the reason Kyle thought it was. "Oh that is almost _too_ easy. You could at least try and not sound like the gaywad you are for five minutes, you know. You're making this no fun."

Kyle just blinked dumbly and tilted his head to the side, not understanding. "Huh?"

Stan slapped a hand over his face as he realized what Cartman meant. "Think about it," he mumbled.

Kyle thought about it and you could see the comprehension dawn on his face. "Oh . . ." he said, trailing off. Then stronger and angrier he said, "Oh," and glared at Cartman again. "Shut up, fat ass. You're one to talk about gay insinuations."

"Aye!" Cartman protested angrily, not liking the, well, insinuation. "I'm not the one humping another guys' leg, you fag."

"No," Kyle agreed, "You probably just spent all night jacking off to your picture of Hitler. And you know what they say about Hitler."

That was too much for Cartman. "Hitler was not a fag, you fucking Jew!"

Kyle grinned. Stan knew how much he loved pointing this particular fact out. "There's historical evidence that he was fucking his second in command."

"Lies!" Cartman almost shouted in reply, his fat face turning red. "Some dirty Jew-rat probably came up with that because they knew they could never live up to Hitler's genius."

That brought the scowl back to Kyle's face. "Hitler was not a genius, fatass! He was a psychopath!"

Stan just sighed and rolled his eyes as he turned away from the developing fight. Here they went again. It was the same fight over and over. He got so fucking sick of it.

"Hey guys!" a cheerful voice said over Cartman and Kyle's loud voices, but neither of the fighting boys paid any attention to it.

"Hey, Kenny," Stan greeted, nodding his head at the other boy.

"What's up with them?" Kenny asked, pointing a casual thumb in Cartman and Kyle's direction where Kyle looked like he was about to jump the fatter boy, his cheek's flushed, his hands clenching into fists and voice raising so that everybody in the hallway could hear him.

"Shut up about what you don't understand, Cartman!"

"Oh, you know," Stan said with a casual shrug, "Hitler."

"Ah," Kenny said, nodding in understanding. And was it strange that just the mention of a long dead German dictator could explain so much? Though with the rest of his life being what it was, he guessed that that really wasn't what he had to worry about.

"Hey, Stan? Kenny?" The soft female voice made both Stan and Kenny turn to find Bebe, who looked almost nervous and was rubbing her arms as though trying to find some unreachable comfort.

"Bebe?" Kenny asked, looking immediately concerned. He always had been closer to her than Stan had and she really didn't look good.

Bebe looked up at them as if they were her last hope. "Have either of you seen Token?"

Kenny and Stan exchanged a look; each asking if the other had seen the boy in question. Obviously neither of them had. So both boys shook their heads and turned back to the upset girl. "No, sorry, Bebe. We didn't see him," Stan said.

"Oh . . ." Bebe murmured, looking down at the ground as she trailed off and seemed even more upset.

"Is he missing?" Kenny asked, still concerned.

"He never came home yesterday and I haven't seen him at school yet," Bebe answered as she continued to rub her arms. "We always meet by his locker and he wasn't there. And, I mean, I know I shouldn't worry because it's not like this is the first time we've ever missed each other, but nobody I've asked has actually seen him yet and I just have this _really_ bad feeling. that . . . that something _bad_ has happened. You don't . . ." She looked back up at Kenny and Stan again to ask tremulously, "You don't think those kidnappers got him, do you?"

"No," Stan said immediately, both because he didn't want Bebe to be even more upset and because he really didn't think Token had been taken. "They only take girls and younger boys. Token was on the football team _and_ the basketball team. He's too big for them to take."

Bebe looked slightly comforted by this. "You're right. You're right. I know. I just . . ." Taking a deep breath in, she visibly tried to pull herself together and then smiled thinly. "I guess I'm just worried about nothing, right?"

"Exactly," Kenny said, giving her a smile. "You're worried about nothing. Token's a big boy. He can take care of himself."

"He's just never done this before, you know?" Bebe said, biting her lip nervously and glancing at the ground.

"Well there's always a first time for everything," Stan said lamely but then had an idea. "I know. Maybe he's setting up a surprise for you."

Bebe visibly brightened at this and looked up again. "You think?"

Stan shrugged uncomfortably, not having expected her to look so excited by the idea. "I dunno. Maybe. I mean, it makes sense, doesn't it?" He looked to Kenny for help.

"Yeah!" Kenny said brightly as he nodded. "That's probably what he's doing."

Looking immensely reassured by this and even a little excited, Bebe smiled. "Then I guess I shouldn't ruin the surprise by worrying, right?"

"Right," Stan said with a smile, inwardly hoping his guess was correct. He would feel horrible if it turned out Token actually had been taken by those kidnappers. And with a new bounce to her step, Bebe took her leave of them and went off to get ready for class.

"You really think he's just setting up a surprise?" Kyle's voice asked skeptically as Bebe walked away.

Somewhat surprised because he hadn't known Kyle had been listening—wasn't he busy fighting with Cartman? Stan looked around but Cartman was gone— Stan turned to his best friend. "You don't?"

"No." Kyle shook his head as he watched Bebe's retreating form with a frown. "I have a feeling things are a little bit more serious than that."

--

Token never came to any of his classes that day, something he'd never done before, and as the next day came around he was officially declared missing. Bebe was frantic with worry and Stan had to admit that he was a little worried himself. This was the first time that anyone he really knew had been taken.

Token was actually on the football team with him. They'd goofed around together, gone for pizza together, hell, they'd even studied together sometimes whenever Kyle was too busy to help him out. It was just wrong to think that right now his friend was being tortured or whatever by those crazy kidnappers that had up till then only taken the young and vulnerable. And Token was far from vulnerable. It just didn't make any sense. Why would they take Token?

This question bugged him for the rest of the day after Token had been declared missing. Why would they take Token?

"I just don't get it," Stan finally burst out over his homework, startling Kyle sitting at his desk.

"Huh?" Kyle said, head shooting up from his own book to look over at Stan.

"Why Token?" Stan asked, not really asking Kyle, just needing to get that question out into the open. "I mean, it's already been proven that the kidnappers don't want money or anything like that," Stan said, going through what he knew of the kidnappers in an effort to understand, "so why would they take Token? Token's big. He's strong. He'd put up a fight. Wouldn't that just be a little too much trouble if they're just going to take him for a couple days?" Stan finished, turning to Kyle for an answer that Kyle couldn't possibly know.

Kyle blinked and then shrugged helplessly. "I dunno."

Stan sighed and turned away from his friend. "And we won't even be able to ask him what happened when he shows up tomorrow because he'll be just like all the others."

Kyle frowned at this. "You really think so? You don't think Token's strong enough to resist that?"

"None of the others were," Stan reminded him.

"So maybe Token's a little stronger than all the others," Kyle said. "I mean, you never know."

Stan didn't look like he really believed this, but obviously decided it wasn't worth fighting about. "Maybe." Resting his head in a hand, Stan sighed listlessly and played with the pages of his math book. After a long moment he continued, "I just wish we knew where they were being taken."

"Yeah. You and everyone else," Kyle said and then obviously thought the conversation finished because he turned back to his homework.

"You don't think . . ." Stan began, not quite as ready to drop the topic.

"No, Stan," Kyle interrupted, looking up from his book to give Stan a stern look. "We are not going looking for him. That's the police's job."

"But you said it yourself," Stan tried. "The South Park Police are incompetent."

Kyle looked irritated that his own words were being used against him. "I know what I said, okay? But it's too dangerous. This isn't like our usual adventures. This is serious stuff. You've seen what those kidnappers do to the kids they take. Do you want to end up like them?"

"Well, no, but—

"No, Stan. And that's final," Kyle said firmly and turned resolutely back to his book.

Stan frowned at this, but followed Kyle's example and turned back to his book nevertheless. The numbers sat there on the page, arranged in mathematical equations that hurt his head. Somehow Pre-Calculus just didn't seem that important when people he knew were going missing and personalities were being removed. But then what else could he do?

--

TBC?


	4. What the Hell?

Okay, again thank you for the reviews. They really help, though this is another kinda short chapter. I'm just trying to set things up before things really get started.

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Chapter #4: What the Hell?

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The next day, just like everyone suspected, Token was back at school. But, again like everyone suspected, he was noticeably different. Where once he was always ready with a smile for a friend, today his face was blank and emotionless. If asked a question he would either not answer at all or would answer in a monotonous tone of voice that just seemed plain wrong on the normally active boy. Questions about where he had been, what had happened to him, what the kidnappers looked like were all answered with: "In the dark. In the dark. The Great Ones shall triumph." Whatever that meant.

Bebe looked like at any moment she would burst into tears and had actually had to rush to the ladies' room more than once for some privacy to pull herself together. She could be seen at the side of her boyfriend, trying desperately for any sign that Token was still in there, that he wasn't just a shell of his former self.

The basketball coach was also upset. His star player suddenly wouldn't play anymore. He would only stand there, watching as the other players and the ball went racing past. In the end the coach had had no choice but to bench him. Token was just lucky that it wasn't football season or he would have found himself facing being benched there as well and that would have hurt his football scholarship.

The teachers were upset too, of course, but Token's grades were not going to fail. When called upon to answer a question in class—a rare occurrence as the teachers didn't really want to hear Token speak in that strange monotonous voice. It bothered them—Token was answering all of the questions correctly, even those questions that he would normally have difficulty with.

Stan, himself, was finding it hard to even look at his friend. It just seemed wrong somehow that Token had been taken down like this. Token was the star everything. He was meant to go on to a top college, have a happy marriage, get a great job and make tons of money. Now Stan wouldn't be surprised if he ended up flipping burgers at the local Burger King. Nobody wanted an emotionless robot as an employee.

The only one who wasn't disturbed by Token's change was Cartman, as was also expected. See, Cartman had an idea. An idea so ingenious that it would, of course, make him ten thousand dollars.

"Alright, Now here's the plan," Cartman explained to Kenny early that next Monday. Three more people after Token had been taken, and so far only two had been returned. They expected the other one back that Tuesday. "We build a ramp, a really, really steep ramp," Catrtman pressed this one point as it was crucial to the entire success of the plan, "and put up signs to get people to show up. They pay the five dollar fee and then I rollerblade down the ramp and over the pond. It's genius."

Kenny didn't look nearly as enthused. "And you think people will actually pay for this?"

"Of course!" Cartman looked angry that Kenny even doubted this. Getting over this, he frowned to himself. "But we have to put up tons of signs or else people won't know about it. You think you can do that?"

Kenny shook his head. "You know I don't have the money to make signs."

Cartman nodded with another small frown "Right. Right. You're a poor bastard. Guess I'll have to do it myself."

"And you're actually going to put these signs up all over school?" Kenny asked. He somehow doubted that Cartman would actually put in the work to make this all happen, but then he also knew how dedicated Cartman could be to any of his many schemes.

"Don't be stupid, Kenny," Cartman said, looking at Kenny as though he were the stupidest thing to walk this earth. "I'm gonna put these signs up all over _town._ That way everybody will know, not just the poor bastards at this fuckin' poor excuse for a school. Everyone will literally _have_ to be there."

"Right," Kenny said uncertainly before deciding not to say anything else to that. He didn't know how putting up signs meant that everybody would have to be there, but then he wasn't going to ask either. He shook his head. "Well tell me how it turns out, okay?" he said, waving a hand and turning to leave.

"Wait!" Cartman said, grabbing him by the arm and turning Kenny around to scowl at him. "Did I say you could leave? You don't actually expect me to build the ramp by myself, do you?"

Kenny rolled his eyes and tugged his arm out of Cartman's grip. "I'm not gonna be free manual labor for you Cartman."

Cartman scowled deeper. This meant he would actually have to give up some of his hard earned cash. "Ten dollars."

Kenny looked offended. "No way."

"Fine. Twenty and that's my final offer."

At this, Kenny looked considering. After all, it _was_ twenty dollars. Finally, after a moment of thought, Kenny smiled and held out a hand to shake Cartman's. "Alright. You got yourself a deal."

--

Later, during the second break between classes, Bebe came hurrying down the hallway, looking this way and that frantically. Stopping before Stan and Kyle for just a moment, she asked with a breathless intensity, "Have you seen Token?"

Stan looked surprised. "He's missing again?"

"I haven't seen him all day," Bebe explained hurriedly, looking like she really didn't want to have to slow down to answer this question but was desperate for any help, "I don't think he came to school."

Obviously this was a serious matter. "You think they kidnapped him again?" Stan asked intently.

"No," Kyle said, shaking his head. "They couldn't have. Nobody else has been kidnapped a second time."

"Actually . . ." Stan started, thinking back on his previous classes. "That girl, Anne Polk? She's usually in our first class and she wasn't there this morning."

Kyle actually thought back to that class and blinked when he realized Stan was right. "Hey, yeah. Your right," he said, sounding somewhat surprised.

Stan gave Kyle a mildly dirty look. "You don't have to sound so surprised."

Kyle looked mildly apologetic. "Sorry."

Bebe obviously didn't have time for this byplay. "So you think they've all been kidnapped again?" Bebe asked, her face intense, obviously wanting to get to the bottom of this mystery.

"Well . . . I dunno," Kyle said, turning back to the girl uncertainly. "Maybe they just didn't go to school today. Maybe their parents kept them home. You know, because of how weird they're acting?"

Bebe didn't want to hear this. "No," she said, shaking her head with a serious frown. "Something's happened. Something bad. I can feel it and I'm going to find out what." And with that she hurried off. Stan and Kyle watched her go, blinking at her retreating form then turning to each other with a shrug

--

Later, Kyle and Stan were at the basketball courts shooting hoops. Kenny and Cartman weren't there because they said they had some work to do. Kyle had bet it was another one of Cartman's stupid plans and Stan had had to agree.

"Alright and he shoots," Stan said, dodging past Kyle and lining up for a shot. The ball flew from his hands, bounced around the hoop once, twice, and then fell in. "And he scores!" Stan cheered. Grinning, he shot Kyle a smug look as Kyle went to retrieve the ball.

Kyle smirked as he picked the ball up from where it had rolled off into the grass surrounding the concrete and started to slowly dribble the ball down the court. "Don't get too cocky. I'm still ahead by four."

"Not for long," Stan replied and went on the defense, trying to knock the ball from Kyle's hands. With some fancy footwork, Kyle kept the ball in his hands and dribbled quickly down the court to set up a shot. He jumped up and the ball flew from his hands only to be knocked out of its path by Stan.

"Hah!" Stan said and hurried after the ball. But Kyle was faster, reaching the ball before it could roll out of bounds, snatching it up and dribbling it a few times before setting up for a three-pointer. The ball flew from his hands and sunk neatly into the hoop with a swish.

Now it was Kyle's turn to shoot Stan a smug look. "Now I'm ahead by seven. Try and catch up now."

"Oh I will," Stan promised as he went to retrieve the ball. "Don't worry."

Play went on like this for a few more minutes, Stan sinking another shot and then the two getting locked in a long battle of defense against offense, Kyle trying to find a way past Stan's seemingly multiple arms, when the ball finally bounced off the toes of Stan's sneakers and went flying off to the side and out of bounds

Kyle sighed and went to retrieve it only to pick it up and stop where he was. Something had caught his attention. Squinting his eyes—it was starting to get a little dark—Kyle tried to make out the figure walking down the street.

"Hey, man, c'mon. We don't have much more time before we have to get home," Stan said, trying to call Kyle back when it seemed his friend was taking too long.

"Is that . . ." Kyle said, ignoring Stan to ask a more important question, "Is that Token?"

"Huh?" Stan said then came closer to see what Kyle was looking at. "Oh, hey," he said, squinting at the figure walking down the darkening street. "I think it is."

"Do you have Bebe's number?" Kyle asked, turning the Stan.

Stan shook his head, eyes still on Token. "Don't have my phone."

"Great," Kyle said sarcastically as he turned the ball over in his hands, "I don't either."

Stan was more concerned with other things. "Where do you think he's going?" he asked.

Kyle shrugged. "I dunno. But I guess this means he wasn't kidnapped again."

Stan turned to Kyle, his expression intent and serious. "Do you think we should follow him?"

Kyle looked hesitant. "I dunno . . ."

"Oh c'mon man," Stan said, trying to convince Kyle that following and intentionally spying on a friend was a good idea. "What could go wrong?"

Kyle just gave Stan a look at that and Stan had to quickly backtrack before Kyle could start listing past adventures.

"I mean, he can't be going far. We'll just follow him a little ways and if anything seems fishy we'll stop."

Kyle thought about this then eventually sighed and gave in. Stan smiled in triumph and the two quickly ran in the direction Token had gone, slowing down when the other boy came within view. He seemed to be carrying a whole lot of wood for some reason and was headed out of town in the direction of the woods

"What's with the wood?" Stan whispered and Kyle shrugged as they continued to follow behind the other boy, carefully trying to keep their steps as quiet as possible. They didn't want Token turning around to catch them following him, if Token in this state would even care.

They eventually came to a clearing just on the edge of town where nearly a dozen other kids were hauling lumber and banging away at wood, nailing in nails and seeming to be creating some type of structure. The Anne Polk girl was there along with almost every other one of the kidnapped kids.

"What the hell?" Stan whispered as he took in this sight.

"What are they doing?" Kyle hissed as he and Stan hid behind a nearby bush.

Stan shook his head wordlessly, busy staring at the spectacle. "I have no idea, man. No idea. But they're building _some_thing for sure."

"What do you think it is?" Kyle asked quietly, hunching in closer to the bush and peering over the foliage.

"No idea," Stan said again. And for a few more moments the two watched as the kidnapping victims worked, seemingly intent on creating whatever they were building.

Eventually Stan spoke again, "Maybe we should ask them." And he seemed about ready to come out from behind the bush to go approach one of the kids.

Kyle shook his head and quickly pulled him back before he could reveal their position. "No way, dude. We should be going home. It's late."

"But—Stan started, for some reason feeling like he _needed_ to know what was going on here. There was something inside him that was more than curiosity that needed to know. This felt all wrong somehow.

"No," Kyle said firmly and tugged on Stan's sleeve. "Now c'mon. We can come back here _later_."

Reluctant, Stan still gave in to Kyle's insistence and the two turned to leave. "Alright," he said, turning to his friend as they turned away from the building site, ready to head back home. "But we are definitely coming back later."

"Yeah. Later. Whatever," Kyle said. "Just _go_ already." And the two left the site behind.

--

TBC


	5. The Mysterious Structure

Alright, I wanted to thank geebabble, not.to.late, and The Lady Morana for reviewing. Thank you! And, yes, the anime was Boku no Sexual Harrassment.

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Chapter #5: The Mysterious Structure

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Now if one didn't know any better they would almost say that Stan had gotten over his little problem with Kyle. Maybe thinking that that one moment in Stan's bedroom was as far as his affections would go.

But if they had thought this they would have been wrong. For even as the two had been playing basketball Stan was thinking thoughts that scared him. Thoughts of that wiry body pressed up against his as Kyle tried to knock the ball from his hands, of the breath on his neck, of the possibilities that may have happened had Kyle not had to run to the bathroom that night over a week ago.

And, like it was said, these thoughts scared Stan. He wasn't supposed to be thinking thoughts like these. They were wrong. This was _Kyle_.

But the thoughts were there all the same.

"Did you see the signs?" Kyle asked, an irritated look on his face as he shoved one of the signs he'd found around campus in Stan's face.

Stan blinked at the paper blocking his vision, but it was too close to make out any lettering. Snatching the sign from Kyle's hands, he held it at a better distance and read the words on the page.

"See the Amazing Flying Cartman!! Saturday, April 16 at Starks Pond!! Be There!!"

Then in smaller script across the bottom: Price of admission—five dollars.

Stan blinked again, this time in surprise. Then he turned to Kyle. "Are you serious?"

Still looking irritated, Kyle crossed his arms over his chest and nodded once.

Stan just couldn't believe this. He looked back down at the sign. "Cartman actually expects to haul _his_ fat ass over the pond?"

"And he actually expects people to _pay_ to see him do it," Kyle said, seeming almost indignant over this fact.

"Huh," Stan said, still looking at the sign. Then, after a moment, he continued, "Well I'll give him one thing. He is dedicated."  
"Dedicated to what?" Kyle demanded. "To making a fool of himself?"

Stan shot Kyle a weird look at this. It seemed almost like Kyle didn't _want_ Cartman to make a fool of himself. "I thought you'd be the first in line to see that."

Kyle sighed and raked a hand through his red hair. "I am. I will be. It's just . . ." Kyle trailed off as he tried to form words. Finally he got together what he wanted to say and looked back up at Stan. "I just get so sick and tired of all these get rich quick schemes and plans to annoy me, you know? They always end up spiraling way out of control. Why can't life ever be _normal_?"

Stan snorted as he folded up the sign to shove it in his backpack. "Welcome to South Park. This is as normal as it gets."

Kyle had to give him that one. "Yeah, yeah." Adjusting his grip on his backpack, Kyle looked down at the tiled floor.

Unable to avoid the thought that Kyle looked rather cute when he was upset, Stan hastily shoved that thought to the back of his mind. Deciding to ignore it and to take pity on his friend, he clapped Kyle on the shoulder. "C'mon, dude. Let's get to class."

So the feelings were still there. But that didn't mean they would be acted upon. At least, not if Stan had any say in the matter.

He still wasn't gay, after all. And, remember, this _was_ Kyle.

--

The school day passed and eventually the last bell rang, releasing the students for the afternoon. Going home for a quick moment to drop off their stuff, Stan and Kyle decided to return to the building site that they had discovered the night before. Stan was still more than curious and Kyle was more than willing to go along for the ride, at least as long as he didn't have a lot of homework to do. He wouldn't admit it, even to himself, but he was just as curious as Stan was. Because really—What were those kids building?

But when they finally arrived at the site they were dismayed to find that the news channels had already discovered their find and had descended on the site like vultures, all looking for the next big story.

"This is Kenan O'Malley from Channel 10 News," a blonde reporter said, speaking into his microphone and standing along the edges of the site along with nearly four other news reporters, "And I'm reporting to you live from just outside of South Park where something incredibly strange is happening—

"Yes, what you heard is correct," another reporter's voice said, breaking over the blonde's, "The victims of the so called Great Ones kidnapping case are building some type of structure. We're not quite sure what it's supposed to be just yet, but we believe it—

"It's seems to be an incredibly large building of some kind made entirely of wood.," yet another reporter reported, "What the kid's hope to accomplish by building this we don't yet know, but so far—

"Yes, you heard it here on Channel 7," another reporter's voice broke over the last's, continuing on with, "The children from the so called Great Ones kidnapping case have gotten even stranger. They seem to have taken it into their heads to—

The last report was in Spanish. "Se trata de Rodrigo Hernández presentación de South Park, donde las víctimas de la última farra de los secuestros están construyendo lo que beileve a ser una especie de monumento a— (1)

"What the hell? Stan asked as he looked around at the mass confusion that was the construction site. People were everywhere, holding up cameras, checking sound equipment, making sure the reporters were looking good for the cameras, and a hundred other different things. Others, regular civilians, were massed around the circumference of the site, kept away by policemen and a large quantity of yellow police tape. None of this seemed to be disturbing the builders who were continuing on with their project uninterrupted.

"Guess we won't be asking them any questions," Kyle said as he looked around.

"Yeah . . ." Stan replied, a little disappointed. Then he squinted into the crowd. "Hey . . . Is that Wendy?"

"Where?" Kyle asked, trying to find what he was looking at.

"There," Stan said and pointed.

Kyle followed Stan's finger and found that it was indeed Wendy standing there in the crowd. She seemed to be harassing the person next to her, which was actually a rather normal activity for her. "Oh, hey. Yeah," Kyle said, "I think it is." And he started to push his way through the crowd to get to his friend, Stan following behind him.

"Wendy!" Kyle called over the loud voices of the crowd as he continued to push his way through. "Wendy!" he called again and waved a hand in the air.

Wendy looked up at the sound of her name and turned around, finally noticing Kyle and Stan a few feet away. "Kyle! Stan!" she called and waved her own hand in the air in greeting. The person she had been harassing took this time to flee and when Wendy turned back around he was nowhere in sight. "Oh poo," she said, disappointed.

Finally Stan and Kyle were at her side. "What are you doing here?" Stan asked. He and Wendy had once been boyfriend and girlfriend but that had long faded out, their former feelings for each other turning into a rather strong friendship.

Wendy flipped her hair over her shoulder and turned to face her friend. "Why wouldn't I be here?" she replied archly. "You know I've been covering the kidnappings for the school paper."

"Yeah, Stan. Remember?" Kyle asked, poking Stan in the ribs. Stan never actually read the school newspaper, but Wendy expected him to so Kyle, who did read the paper, would occasionally fill him in on the big stories Wendy was working on. That way when Stan was actually talking to his ex-girlfriend he wouldn't sound like a complete idiot.

"Oh yeah," Stan said, as though he had actually read the articles and was just now remembering them.

"I'm actually thinking of taking the story in a new direction," Wendy told them. She looked off into the distance and raised a hand to the sky, as if reading a giant newspaper, to say, "Local Victims Take to the Streets: What _Are_ They Thinking?" She turned back to the boys to ask their opinion. "Well? What do you think?"

"Um," Stan said, not quite sure what she wanted. "It sounds interesting?"

And that seemed to be the right things to say because Wendy nodded. "I thought so too." But here she turned to glare at the policemen busy keeping everyone out of the way of the builders. "But those damn policemen are being really uncooperative. I can't get close enough to any of the kids to ask any of my questions. I mean really." She turned back to Stan and Kyle. "How am I supposed to write a story when I can't even get close enough to talk to the main characters?"

Stan shrugged helplessly, but Kyle got curious and asked, "So you don't know what they're building either?"

Wendy shook her head, switching her hold on her notebook from one hand to another and curling a bit of hair behind her ear with her newly free hand. "Nobody does. I heard one of the reporters actually got close enough to talk to one of the kids when they were passing by with more wood and all that kid would say was just nonsense. Like he wasn't even trying to be comprehensible anymore."

"Huh," Kyle said and turned back to regard the structure and the kids building it curiously.

For a few more moments the three of them stood and watched as the kids continued their work until finally Kyle decided it was time to go. He still had homework to do after all and he was sure Wendy had some more people to harass. "Well we'd better go," he said.

Wendy nodded, understanding that they couldn't stand there all day, but Stan started to protest. "Wha-? But Kyle we—

Kyle grabbed Stan by the arm and, looking into his eyes, said firmly, "We need to go. We still have homework to do, remember?"

"But—

"C'mon Stan." And Kyle started to lead Stan away.

Stan gave the in-process building one last longing look before turning around and allowing Kyle to lead him home.

--

Stan and Kyle went to Stan's house to finish up their homework and then decided to play video games until it was time for Kyle to leave. He needed to be home by dinnertime and as that time came around Kyle dutifully said good-bye to Stan and headed for home.

When he entered through the front door everything seemed normal enough. His dad was in the living room watching the news and his mom was in the kitchen preparing dinner. Ike was probably upstairs in his bedroom writing angstily in his journal as was his custom now that he was 12. Either way, Kyle dropped his backpack off in his room and decided to join his dad in watching the TV. A half an hour passed peacefully as his mom finished up dinner and then called for everyone to meet at the dinner table.

Kyle and Gerald Broflovski came quickly enough, but Ike was taking his time.

"Ike!" Sheila Broflovski called up the stairs to no reply. "IKE!" she called again louder and then waited again for a reply.

Only silence from upstairs.

"IKE BROFLOVSKI!" Sheila called yet again. There was still no reply so Sheila turned to Kyle. "Kyle, go get your brother, would you?"

Wordlessly, Kyle slipped out of his seat to do as his mom had told him. Taking the stairs two at a time, he approached his little brother's door and knocked loudly. "Hey, Ike"

No reply.

Kyle tried again. "Ike?"

Again no reply.

Starting to get a little worried now, Kyle knocked on the door harder. "Ike. Hey!"

Still there was no reply.

Deciding to risk his little brother's anger, Kyle turned the knob on the door and peeked inside the room. Seeing nobody, he opened the door wider and got a better look inside. The bed was still unmade from that morning and, sure enough, there was the journal on the desk, open and with a pen next to it all ready to be written in, but there was no Ike in sight.

Kyle frowned then went downstairs to tell his mother.

Sheila took it as well as she took anything. "What?! But where could he be?"

Kyle shrugged and so started the search. Dinner was forgotten and the phone calls started, calling almost every single one of Ike's friends to see if he was at their house or if they possibly knew where he could have gone. None of them did.

Hours later, Kyle could tell his mom was starting to become frantic. Ike was missing in a town where kidnappings were becoming commonplace. This was not good.

And as Gerald took Sheila aside to try and calm her down before they made the final phone call to the police, Kyle reached for the phone to make his own call.

--

Riiiinnng – Riiiiinnng

Stan groaned and turned over in his sleep, trying to block out the annoying ringing by pulling the pillow over his head. But the phone continued on.

Riiiiinnnng – Riiiiinnng

"Ugh," Stan groaned, but still pulled himself up to grab the phone from his nightstand. "What?" he asked groggily when he had the phone in his hand

Kyle said only two words and Stan was suddenly much more awake. "Ike's gone."

--

TBC

(1) Translation: This is Rodrigo Hernandez presenting from South Park where the victims of the latest spree of kidnappings are building what we believe to be a kind of monument to—


	6. The Amazing Flying Cartman

I wanted to say thank you to all that reviewed including The Lady Morana, geebabbie, and ahilty.

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-

Chapter #6: The Amazing Flying Cartman

-

The next day passed relatively normally, only it was clear that Kyle was worried about his brother. He'd wanted to go search for him and, after school, Kyle successfully managed to drag Stan with him around town to question people and look in every cranny that a kidnapper could possibly hide. Stan tried to remind Kyle that the police had most likely already looked in all of these places, but Kyle wasn't really hearing anything.

When that day passed without the two finding even one scrap of evidence telling them where Ike may have gotten to, Kyle finally settled down and was mostly content to sit by his family's side by the phone, waiting for the police to call them and say that they had finally found Ike and the Great Ones kidnapping case had been solved.

This behavior worried Stan and so that Saturday he came by the house to collect Kyle and take him out to Stark's Pond.

"Not now, Stan," Kyle said, waving him off. "I need to be here."

"No you don't," Stan replied. "All you're doing is making yourself sick worrying. Come on. I thought you wanted to see the fat ass fail miserably. You were looking forward to it all week."

"I just . . ." Kyle trailed off and shook his head. "Not anymore, okay Stan?"

But Stan didn't give up and eventually Kyle said he'd go but he wouldn't have fun just to make Stan shut up and go away. So the two of them made their way down to Stark's Pond where they found a pretty good crowd already there, waiting for Cartman's big stunt.

"Oh boy," Butters said excitedly when they found him in the crowd. "Can you believe it, you guys? He's actually going to jump the _whole_ pond!"

"Yeah, it's really exciting," Kyle said, sounding more bored than he'd ever sounded before. Stan rolled his eyes and they left Butters behind, pushing through the crowd to get a spot at the front where they could better point and laugh.

The set up seemed safe and realistic enough. On one side of the pond there was a rather large ramp that sloped downward then sharply upward again and on the other side was a rather similar ramp that Cartman was supposedly suppose to land on. Stan wouldn't make any bets that he actually would though. This whole thing was destined for failure.

Eventually Cartman appeared on the top of the ramp wearing a ridiculous outfit similar to those outfits that the daredevils wear. You know, the ones with the blue and red racing stripes and the red fringe along the arms. He'd also apparently been unable to find rollerblades that would fit his feet as he was holding his old skateboard in his hands. He stood there and held his arms a high as he called for the crowd's attention. Nobody was listening to him though and he eventually got tired of screaming at them and brought out his megaphone.

"HEY! YOU GUYS!" he shouted. "PAY ATTENTION!"

Everyone stopped talking and turned their attention to the fat kid in the crazy get-up.

"ALRIGHT!" Then Cartman turned off the megaphone, stored it away, and began his carefully written speech. "Thank you all for coming to this glorious event!" he said loudly, opening his arms to the people like he'd seen people on TV do. "Where I will bravely attempt a stunt that hasn't been done in years!" That obviously didn't seem impressive enough so Cartman added, "In decades!"

Standing next to Stan, Kyle rolled his eyes. Seeing this, Stan grinned.

Formalities apparently out of the way, Cartman obviously decided to just get on with things without his usual playing to the crowd. "So . . . Who wants to see me jump this pond?"

There was silence from the crowd.

"A-hem," Cartman said, clearing his throat before saying, louder and with more emphasis, "I _said_, who wants to see me jump this pond!"

There was a rather weak reaction from the crowd this time. Some people clapped, two or three people whistled loudly, and one person very clearly shouted, "YEAH!" and then there was a rather embarrassed silence from that corner.

"That's not good enough," Cartman said, "I said," then he whipped out the megaphone again, "WHO WANTS TO SEE ME JUMP THIS POND!"

That got a stronger reaction from the crowd as they apparently realized that Cartman would keep doing this until he was satisfied. There was a lot more clapping, more whistling, a few loud shouts, and one very distinct catcall.

That apparently satisfied and Cartman said, "Alright, then let's get this show started!" More clapping and whistling as Cartman prepared to jump. He put on his goggles and tightened the strap then put his skateboard down and got into the starting position. Making a few test rolls to make sure the wheels worked, Cartman then pushed off, put both feet on the board and zoomed down the ramp and into the air. For a weightless few seconds it appeared as if Cartman was suspended in the air, but then that second passed and Cartman's trajectory failed him and he began to plummet into the pond. His skateboard continued to fly, flying off into the woods surrounding the area as Cartman landed with a loud splash in the pond meters from the landing ramp, sending water spraying everywhere. The people at the very front of the crowd got splashed, which included Stan and Kyle and they laughed while others let out loud and annoyed shouts.

Shouting incomprehensible nonsense, Cartman struggled in the water, eventually swimming to the shore as Kyle and Stan continued to laugh themselves silly. Crawling onto the shore, Cartman lay back in the grass and panted for breath. Stan and Kyle, their laughter dying down, went to go see how he was as the disappointed and slightly angry crowd started to dissipate, murmuring to themselves about the wasted five bucks they had just spent to see some kid fall into a pond.

"You okay, man?" Stan asked, looking down at Cartman's fat face with an amused grin.

"Shut . . . up . . . faggot," Cartman said between drawing in deep breaths.

Coming out from underneath the ramp, Kenny joined them at the edge of the pond with his own smile. "I told you it wouldn't work."

"Shut up . . . you poor . . . piece of trash. My plan . . . was genius."

"Well apparently it wasn't as genius as you thought," Kyle said with a grin, his worries about his brother apparently gone for the short moment. "You didn't exactly make it over the pond."

"It would've worked," Cartman said, getting his breath back and starting to struggle to his feet. "You jinxed me," he said, pointing at Kyle accusingly.

Kyle started to look a little offended, but couldn't hold on to emotion in his amusement. "I did not."

"Then you used your Jew-mojo to make it so I failed," Cartman decided angrily.

"Cartman," Kyle said as patiently as he could though now he looked truly irritated. "There is no such thing as Jew-mojo."

"Yes there is!"

"No, there really isn't."

"Come on, you guys," Stan said, trying to avoid a fight. "Let's just leave."

"What about the ramp?" Kenny asked. "We need to take that down."

Cartman was more concerned with other things, busy looking around the clearing. "Where's my skateboard?"

Stan answered Kenny. "Let's just leave it. Somebody will take it down eventually. Or not."

"You _guys_," Cartman whined, "Where's my skateboard?"

"I think I saw it go into the woods," Kyle answered.

"Then go get it," Cartman said, looking straight at Kyle.

Seeming almost surprised at this somehow, Kyle pointed to himself and said, "What. Me?"

"It's your fault," Cartman said, not at all logically.

"And how is it my fault?" Kyle asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"It was your Jew-mojo that made me fall into the pond and lose my skateboard. It's your fault!"

Before Kyle could say anything to that, Stan had grabbed him by the arm and started tugging him in the direction of the woods. "Come on. Let's just all go find Cartman's stupid skateboard and then we can go back home." He gave a nod to Kenny who went off in a different direction, leaving Cartman to stand, dripping, at the edge of the pond.

"But Stan, I— Kyle started.

Stan stopped him with a look. "Did you have anything better to do?"

"Well, yeah, I—

Stan interrupted him again. "And by better I mean anything besides sit in your house and mope."

Kyle frowned. "I wasn't moping."

"Then worrying. Whatever. Point is, there's nothing you can do about Ike so you might as well distract yourself, okay?"

"I—

Stan interrupted again, knowing that whatever Kyle would have said it would not be what he wanted. He shot Kyle another look. "Okay?"

Kyle sighed. "Okay. Okay, fine. You can let go of my arm now."

Stan looked down at where he had wrapped his arms around Kyle's and blushed. He hadn't even realized he was still doing that. "Right. Sorry."

---------------------------------------------------------------

Stan and Kyle walked deeper into the woods, looking this way and that for the elusive skateboard. Stan was about to speak up and tell Kyle that if they hadn't found it in five more minutes then they should walk back in the direction of the pond when Kyle noticed something.

"Look!" Kyle said and Stan looked. Coming up in front of them was an actual log cabin. Stan didn't think they had log cabins any more. At least not since the settlers.

"What's that doing here?" Stan asked, looking curious. He didn't remember anybody ever mentioning a log cabin out in the woods. He was sure he would have remembered something like that and probably have discovered it years ago.

Kyle shrugged, obviously just as curious. "I dunno. Wanna see?" He turned to Stan with a grin, the excitement about a new adventure coming into his eyes.

Stan grinned back, loving that look, and the two decided to come closer. Looking around the corner of the cabin, neither boy could see any signs that anybody was home, but all around were signs that somebody actually lived there. Hanging on a line were thick woolen blankets and there was a chopping block with evidence that somebody had recently chopped wood there. The two were just looking around behind the back of the cabin when a voice spoke up.

"Well, hello there."

Both boys jumped, not having expected the voice, and turned guiltily to find that it was just an old man, standing there in oversized overalls and an old, stained t-shirt.

"Um, hi," Stan said, deciding to be the spokesperson for them this time. "We're sorry. We didn't think anybody was around."

"Well there's no harm done. Do you like lemonade?"

Stan and Kyle exchanged a look, each obviously wondering just why the man had asked a question like that.

"Oh now don't look like that," the old man said, smiling slightly. "I just don't get much company out here in these woods. I was just wondering if you'd like something to drink."

"Oh no," Kyle said, trying to get out of this situation gracefully. "We couldn't."

"Nonsense," the old man said, pushing between them to head for the front door. Opening this door, he beckoned them in. "Come on now. Don't be shy. I'm just a lonely old man. I don't bite."

Stan and Kyle exchanged another look, but neither could figure out a way to turn the man down. And he did seem nice enough. And it was kind of hot out here in the woods.

Following the old man into the house, they were surprised to find that it was nicely furnished inside, with thick blankets covering the couch and armchair, and a rug laid out on the floor by the fireplace. And all around were machines, gizmos, gadgets, CD-players, and other miscellaneous things. They were on the walls, on the shelves, on the tables, partly open mechanical bits left out of gadgets as if the old man had been in the middle of either taking them apart or putting them back together and had just forgotten. The whole place seemed like a workshop, an inventor's play place.

"Come on. Sit down now," the old man said before walking through another door, supposedly to the kitchen. Stan and Kyle carefully took a seat on the couch, still not quite sure about what to think about the situation they were in. Then the old man reappeared with a tray holding three glasses of lemonade. He set this down on the table and let the boys each grab one for themselves.

"So," the old man said as he settled himself down in the armchair. "What's your names?"

Stan swallowed the mouthful of lemonade he had taken and lowered the glass from his lips. "Well I'm Stan and this is Kyle," he said, pointing at the other boy who had finally decided it was safe enough to take a tiny sip from his glass of lemonade. "Who are you?" That sounded a bit rude so Stan hurried to say, "I mean, if you don't mind."

The old man just smiled. "I'm Samson, but you can call me Sam. Everyone does."

"Okay . . . Sam," Stan said hesitantly, trying out the name on his tongue. He wasn't used to old people telling him to call them by their first names. "I'm sorry, but why are you living out here in the woods?" he continued curiously, knowing it was rude but having to ask. "Can't you get a house in town?"

The old man, Sam, just smiled again. "I don't want a house in town. I like the privacy out here in these woods. Out here everybody leaves me alone. What were you boys doing out this far?"

Stan and Kyle exchanged another look, each wondering just how much about themselves they could say. This guy was still a stranger after all. "A . . . friend of ours lost his skateboard," Stan eventually said, turning back to the old man. "We were just trying to find it."

"Well I haven't seen any skateboards around," Sam said, looking thoughtful as if he really was trying to remember if he had seen any skateboards, "And I know these woods like the back of my hand."

"Well he just lost it this morning," Kyle tried to explain. "It went flying off into the woods after a, um," he tried to find a nice word for the hilarity that Cartman had attempted and finally found it, "demonstration," he said.

"Well, I'm sorry, but, again, I haven't seen anything even close to a skateboard around here," Sam said with a shrug before taking a sip of his own lemonade.

"That's alright," Stan said, "Thank you though."

"It's quite alright," Sam said in reply and then there was an awkward pause.

Finally Kyle couldn't take it anymore. He had to ask. "What are all these machines? Are you an inventor?"

Taking another sip if his lemonade, Sam paused as if to think about how to answer that. Eventually he said, "You could call me that. I'm more of a . . . tinkerer really."

"But all these machines . . ." Kyle said, looking around the room. "There's so many of them. What do they do?"

"Well that there," Sam pointed at some random piece hanging on the wall, "That one right there is a bit like a barometer."

Kyle looked at it. It didn't look like any barometer he'd ever seen. "So it takes the temperature?"

"And other things," Sam said mysteriously before moving on to another piece. "And that there," he said, pointing in a different direction at something on one of the shelves. "That piece is a bit like a toaster. I'm still working on that."

"So you're going to improve on it?" Kyle asked, looking back at the old man with wonder.

"Something like that," Sam said again. "But here." Here he got up and actually went to retrieve a specific gadget. "This," he said, returning with something that looked almost like a video game controller. "This is my masterpiece."

"What's it do?" Stan asked somewhat curiously. He wasn't nearly as interested as Kyle was though. Kyle himself was wide-eyed in amazement at each new curiosity. An inventor's workshop!

"This," Sam said, holding out the video controller-like thing with a certain intensity. "This is going to fix that kidnapping business once and for all.

Kyle stopped all movement and stared. He couldn't have heard that right. "What?" he asked.

"Yep," Sam said, looking at his invention with pride. "This'll stop those pesky "Great Ones" from ever coming into this world again."

"What?" Kyle asked again only this time with a lot more confusion. This world?

"I've figured it out," Sam said, sitting back down in his armchair, obviously thrilled to have somebody that would listen to him. "These kids, they're captured without anybody knowing it, right? Being sneaked out of houses right under parents' noses and all that. And I was wondering—How? How can they do that? And then the answer hit me. They're from another dimension."

Kyle just stared at the old man, feeling all of his hopes, which had been built up so very quickly, tumbling down and disappearing into dust. "What?" he asked yet again. Stan, at his side, said nothing, only staring at the old man as if he had lost his mind, not wanting to say anything in case he insulted the wacko.

"From another dimension," Sam repeated before holding out his invention again. "And this. This will take me to them. This'll take me to that other dimension. It can take me anywhere and all I had to do was figure out the coordinates and—

Kyle abandoned his lemonade on the side table and stood up to leave. "I think we need to leave."

Sam looked confused. "What? But I was just getting to the good part. I can take those figurations and—

"I really think we need to leave. Thank you for the lemonade but I have to get home to babysit my little brother. Come on, Stan." Kyle grabbed Stan by the arm and started pushing him out the door, just wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible.

As soon as the door had closed behind them, Stan turned to Kyle. But Kyle was already hurrying away from the cabin as fast as he could. Stan jogged a bit to catch up and then put a hand on Kyle's arm, trying to get him to slow down.

"Hey, man, are you alright?"

Kyle nodded tensely.

Stan didn't believe him. "You sure? Cause you don't look alright."

At this, Kyle stopped and sighed. "It's just, I really thought for a second there that I had found some way to save Ike. And then he starts going on about alternate dimensions and how he can travel through them with a video game controller and really, what did you want me to say?"

"Nothing," Stan assured him. "It's alright, okay dude? And Ike's coming back soon."

Kyle put a hand to his forehead and gave a half-choked laugh. "Yeah, without his mind."

Stan still tried to sooth him. "It'll be alright though. That no mind thing? That can be fixed. Your parents have the money for the best psychiatrists and doctors. Everything will be alright."

Kyle took a deep breath in and tried to calm down. "Yeah. Alright, yeah. I'm just being a little hysterical right now. Everything will be fine." Then he looked to the side and laughed, still sounding a bit hysterical.

Stan immediately looked worried. "What? What is it?"

Kyle pointed. Over there by the side of the road was Cartman's skateboard.

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TBC Do you think this chapters okay? I wasn't sure about Sam, but it's the best I could do with him.


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